


Strictly business

by bi_ceratops



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Strictly Come Dancing Fusion, Ballroom Dancing, Bisexual Sokka (Avatar), Gay Zuko (Avatar), M/M, Reality TV, Sexual Tension, Zuko and Azula dance, pro dancer Zuko
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26756377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi_ceratops/pseuds/bi_ceratops
Summary: Welcome to the newest series of Strictly Stars Dancing! The series that pits your favourite celebrities against each other in a dance competition for the prestigious glitterball trophy!This year we've got some exciting twists: our first celebrity siblings competing, an unexpected pairing between the ladies man jokester and the brooding hunk, sexual tension, a slew of secrets ready to be unearthed in a vicious vow for the title, and most importantly - ballroom dance.
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 22
Kudos: 95





	1. The Launch Show

"And we go live in three, two, one-" 

Katara grabbed Sokka's hand in the darkness, and for a second everything was alright.

He could feel the buzz of the audience waiting outside, their waspy buzz as they waited for the show to start subsiding as the vt started. The music was booming and loud, Sokka only seeing ghostly flashes of the dancers projected onto the floor so the audience could see what the dance was supposed to be. They moved quickly and precisely, slipping in and out through the gap of the curtains that Sokka was peeking out of like a naughty child. He wasn't the only one doing it though, most of the other contestants were stood on their tip toes and craning their neck, attempting to catch a fleeting glimpse of the dancers spinning on their toes and being flung around in the air in a way that made Sokka's stomach turn.

He tried to raise his head up enough to look into the audience and maybe spot his dad or Gran Gran, but one of the production guys yanked on Sokka's shoulder. "Stay down. You're gonna be seen." 

Sokka felt a huff scratch at the back of his throat but didn't let it out, just sinking his heels into the ground and trying to calm his nerves. A loud surge of applause rammed into the curtain like a tidal wave, the pro dancers twirling onto the stage. Yet again Sokka saw flashes, arms and legs flying through the air, delicately and precisely placed. The audience were going crazy, yelling almost as loudly as the blasting music that was making Sokka shake (though that could have just been the nerves). Sokka wasn't usually a nervous person - he was always the loudest one in the room, or the smiliest. But that was usually when Sokka knew that he was good at something, or not about to be judged by millions of people. Yeah, it was nerve-wracking. 

"Now introducing-" Iroh's voice echoed over the speakers and into the audience. "-the celebs of Strictly Stars Dancing!"

Katara gave his hand one last squeeze. Sokka plastered a beam on his face, inhaled a sharp calming breath, and jogged out from behind the curtain. 

Sokka had only been hit in the face a couple of times. It had been when he was a child, play fighting with Katara. He couldn't recall what the fight was about, probably toys or their dad's attention or something fickle. What he could remember was the room melting into itself, Sokka going lightheaded and stars blinking in front of his eyes. Stepping onto the stage of Strictly Stars Dancing was much the same. It was difficult to focus on any one thing in the room, from the audience members' faces shielded by the bright stage lights flickering in and out of view like phantoms, and the dancers spinning around in their neon costumes. Instead of stars there was glitter and confetti raining down over the stage.

Sokka found himself jogging over to the podium where he had been instructed to stand in rehearsal. In all honesty it was quite impressive, like a large indoor carnival. Sokka felt his smile loosen and become more genuine as he looked over the spectacle. A packed audience full of cheering fans, a troupe of incredibly attractive dancers doing things Sokka could only dream of, and a bunch of celebrities doing awkward dancing to lively, upbeat music. It was the type of dancing that he'd seen drunk ladies do at clubs, a little shuffle in a circle around their handbags. Sokka let a little laugh escape his mouth. It might've been drowned out by the music but hell - Sokka was a 26 year old man and was currently wearing lycra. He could look at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. 

Sokka grabbed Katara's hand and spun her around like he did when they were kids dancing in front of the TV for their mother. Katara grinned, flailing her arms a bit in a strange little dance. Sokka mirrored it, nearly hitting the contestant next to him in the face. He didn't really care that much, and the contestant was having too much fun to notice. Suddenly the music was beginning to slow and crescendo, winding up for the big finish. Sokka pulled Katara onto his back, bopping slightly to the beat despite the extra weight, and then flung his arms up in the air in time with the last chord, waving some enthusiastic jazz hands.

The lights froze, illuminating the dancers (and trying celebrities) in their stone still end poses. Iroh and Toph strutted out to the centre of the stage, mics in hand, charismatic smiles on their faces. "Welcome" they said in unison "to Strictly Stars Dancing!"

Yet again, the crowd went buck wild.

The jazzy title music began to play out from the orchestra. Sokka sucked in a breath, almost taken aback by how familiar yet strange it was. It's one thing to hear a theme tune on television, but to be in the studio and involved in the incredible institution that was Strictly Stars Dancing was astounding. Strictly Stars Dancing was a television program that had started when Sokka was about 8. At the time Sokka would have rather died than admit he was a fan of something as girly as dancing, especially since he was going through his dumb 'no girls allowed phase' at the time. However Katara and his mother had instantly fallen in love with the show, forcing Sokka and his dad and sometimes Gran Gran to watch it with them. Katara had always wanted to dance along with the show, and of course Kya had made Sokka be her partner (and she also took lots of photos). Over time, Sokka had sort of looked forward to awkwardly dancing along with the show with his younger sister, and then when she'd grown out of that he just enjoyed watching the show.

After that point on, neither Sokka nor Katara had missed an episode or a season, no matter how hectic their schedules got. Neither had the public, apparently, the show in the run up to its 15th year, growing from strength to strength. It was becoming a staple of the year, to be honest. Strictly Stars Dancing was one of those events that if you brought it up in a conversation with a pack of strangers in a tea shop most would have an opinion on the show, and the ratings barely ever dropped. And now Sokka was on it.

Sokka was ushered to one of the back rooms by a runner, a small screen playing what was currently being broadcast to the nation. The titles stopped, the camera zooming in over the cheering audience and the iconic dance floor to Iroh and Toph, the two presenters.

"Hello, and welcome!" Iroh smiled, in that warm look that made grannies all across the world fall in love with him. Iroh had developed a bit of a cult following from fans of the show, who basically worshiped the jolly old man. Today he was in a sequined green suit, which sparkled under the lights. He looked just as excited as he had presenting his first ever season of the show - a rare skill Sokka had never truly seen on anyone else he had worked with in the entertainment industry. "It's a pleasure to welcome you all back to the strictly family - and some new faces."

He looked at Toph, who had her back to the cameras for the majority of this segment in some kind of attempt at slapstick. She spun around when Iroh placed a large hand on her back, and waved at the audience. "It's lovely to meet you all!" She didn't seem quite convinced, but everyone knew that Toph hadn't been hired for her niceness. Toph Beifong had been a celeb on the show a few years back and absolutely steamrolled the competition with her professional, Smellerbee. She was not only the first blind person to compete on the show but the first blind person to win it, winning over the audience with her motivated attitude, inspirational story, natural dance ability and witty banter - even if it was sometimes a bit curt. It was no surprise that she'd been invited back to host with Iroh, balancing his sweetness out with a sharp splash of dry humour. "It's hard to believe it's been 18 years since this show started!"

"Ah yes-" Iroh chuckled "back when I was twenty two."

"As far as I can see Iroh, you haven't aged a day." The audience let out a laugh, slightly uncomfortable at the blind jokes. Toph seemed to be okay with it, wickedly grinning. "We've got our first sibling celebs competing!" Sokka blushed, feeling all the other celebrities in the back room glance at him and Katara judgmentally. "We've got a fresh new host and a brand new pro!" The audience cheered. "And it seems like the show has finally built in something for me! Blind pairings!" 

The audience let out an 'oOoOh'.

"That's right! This year our pairings will be made regardless of gender stereotypes! Anybody could be paired with anybody."

"Wow." Toph deadpanned. "Can't say I knew about that exciting twist." The blind paring thing had been a huge part of the campaign for the new series, and was of course met by hundreds of complaints and a big stink online, to the extent that someone had made a petition about it that had been raised in parliament. Unsurprisingly the network hadn't given in, either through the knowledge that the show was going to do well despite some internet trolls or through pure belief that the audience was just generally quite inclusive. The audience chuckled again.

Iroh gave a hearty thumbs up. "It's exciting, I know. So exciting I think it's time we meet our first set of celebrities!"

\----

As to be expected, the show had gone off without a hitch. There was a whole mountain of people hired to make sure the show ran smoothly, and they buzzed around Sokka, dabbing him with powder and telling him to smile overenthusiastically. He was about to go on stage and get paired with a professional dancer who would teach him throughout the show. He was part of the last group, with a batch of celebrities including him, his sister, a man called Haru who had a unique moustache, and a gloomy woman who didn't seem like she was having any fun, Mai. They were currently parked at the side of the stage, waiting to be called down onto the dancefloor and have their fates picked out for them. 

The pro dancers were in the middle of some routine introducing the newest pro, a flexible woman named Ty Lee who was doing flips all over the front of the stage, whilst the rest of the pro dancers twirled behind them. Despite being at the front of the stage, Ty Lee was nowhere near being the centre of attention. That honour always fell to Azula - the most successful professional in the history of Strictly Stars Dancing. She'd won twice in her 5 year tenure, and even when she hadn't won she'd reached at least the semi finals. Even if she had been paired with the naturally worst dancer out of the cast somehow Azula whipped them into shape, sometimes carrying the pair with her charismatic responses and reputation for being a hard worker. 

Azula was intimidating, and that was best shown through her dancing. Every move was exact and precise, like a knife point, but you could feel the drive and passion radiating from her, partly from her sly smile, and partly from the way she extended to the very tips of her fingers, every part of her controlled yet brought to life by the music. At the current moment she was being hurled through the air by her brother Zuko, her usual dance partner. He was no less intimidating or talented, but he possessed that dark brooding quality which had fixed him as the nation's bad boy crush. Sokka could see why: long, dark shiny black hair that was pulled back from his face in a tightly gelled man bun. His arms were thick and held steady as he effortlessly picked up his sister. What really solidified Zuko’s mysterious status was the large red scar that covered his left eye. No one knew how it got there, and everyone was too scared to ask. Honestly Sokka was glad that he’d avoided having the siblings as his pro dancers. Azula had been paired with a whip smart athlete called Jet, and although Zuko hadn’t been paired yet Sokka would be surprised if he didn’t end up with Mai, the two having the same gloomy energy.

The dance wrapped up and suddenly Sokka was pushed to the base of the stairs, queuing up with the remaining celebrities. Katara got pulled up first, happily skipping over to where Iroh was standing in front of the judges table. They had a quick interview, but most of it went over Sokka's head as he shifted his gaze across the studio, his blood running through his ears. He glanced over at the other two competitors. Mai was boredly picking at her nails, eyes rolle, and Haru had his hands clasped behind his back, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. Sokka tried to find the happy medium between the two, reaffirming his smile.

The lights dipped, and Iroh’s voice echoed through the microphone. Sokka felt a trickle of sweat down the back of his neck, realising that once the lights went up and Katara fled up the stairs with her partner then Sokka would be left to the mercy of his partner for the next few weeks. “Katara, your partner is....” Iroh said, dramatically pausing. Katara was twitching, thumbing her mum’s necklace. After a lot of begging wardrobe had let her wear it, the blue of the necklace matching her long flowy skirt and the glitter on her bodice. “Aang!” Iroh called.

Aang’s face lit up in a warm smile and he charged over to Katara, sweeping her up in a large hug and twirling her around. When he put Katara down she was blushing, but she was smiling, her expression slightly relieved. Aang had joined Strictly Stars Dancing the previous year and had quickly affirmed himself as the nation’s sweetheart, despite being paired with a creepy old lady called Hama who had both looked and sounded like a cryptid. He was sweet, with sparkling eyes and a mop of black hair which gave him a boyish quality. He and Katara looked good together, and to top that off they’d hit it off beautifully in the limited rehearsals the group had done. 

Sokka found himself striding forwards, taking his place next to Iroh. “Sokka - how are you?”

“I’m great thanks!” Sokka smiled, nodding at the friendly older man.

“Now a little birdie told me that you’re a bit of a ladies man?” 

“Was that birdie my sister?” Sokka charmed, and Iroh feigned shock.

The audience chuckled, one of the judges, Bumi, absolutely losing it from behind the table. “So Sokka, have you got your eye on any of our lovely ladies?”

“Maybe.” Sokka smiled, winking at Iroh and trying to avert his gaze from Suki. In all honesty he’d been hoping to be paired with her, or the graceful ballroom champion Yue (but she’d ended up with some old guy named Roku). He’d bonded really well with both of them in training, especially Suki, who countered Sokka’s various jokes and quips just as quickly as he made them. 

“Well then, let's find out who you’re paired with!” 

The lights went down, and Sokka felt Iroh grab his arms reassuringly. The spotlights fell on the pros and they lifted their chins. Both Suki and Ty Lee looked over to Sokka and smiled kindly, a warm feeling slowing the thumping in Sokka’s chest. Zuko was looking straight ahead, his sharp jaw set in that brooding stiff expression that almost made Sokka laugh with its self seriousness. “Sokka, your partner for Strictly Stars Dancing is….”

Sokka had flashes of his future, just like he was about to die. Suki twirling over to him, them becoming best of friends, getting tens, holding glitter balls, laughing and smiling and-

“...Zuko!”

Amber eyes met Sokka’s blue ones, wide with surprise. He shook his head, slanted his one good eye, and strode over to Sokka.


	2. Training wheels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka questions why he did the show in the first place, and also Zuko's training techniques.

"So… Zuko huh?" Katara grinned, folding her arms in the back of the taxi. She looked smug. "I gotta say… you looked completely joyous."

"Shut it." Sokka retorted, folding his arms and hunching his back over in his seat. Sokka hadn't looked quite as delighted as all the other celebs when his pairing had been announced and his shocked face and awkward embrace with Zuko had already gone slightly viral. He'd uncomfortably shot Zuko some finger guns and pulled him into the most painful bro hug. Some guy on twitter had posted about it and then Azula had somehow found a way to repost that whilst the show was going on, and now it was all over Sokka's timeline. He'd tried to pass it off as a joke by making the screenshot of the finger guns his profile picture, but it still stung that he'd become the laughing stock of the show already.

Zuko didn't act much more comfortably. He grimaced, barely speaking a word to Sokka other than briefly asking when Sokka was busy so he could organise training. 

"I'm just saying-" Katara muttered, putting her hands in the air. "-it was pretty funny. Finger guns?!" 

Sokka's dad chuckled from the middle seat. "Don't worry son. I'm sure that's not going to be the most embarrassing thing you do on this show." He paused, thought for a second, noted Sokka's scowl, and rephrased. "I'm not saying you're going to embarrass yourself, I just mean - uh - give it three weeks, you'll be wearing a pink silk shirt and no one will remember this." 

"Good work!" Gran Gran said. "You've got him all worried. Don't worry, I can tell you and your partners are going to get along splendidly." 

Sokka groaned into the hand that was currently pulling at the skin around his face. "How do you know?"

"A Gran Gran always does."

\---

Sokka was woken up the next morning by a voice. It was his phone, the text tone foolishly set to some line he'd found absolutely hilarious in a comedy series and bass booted. Apparently at whatever time it was in the morning those lines weren't all that funny, and Sokka grumbled into his pillow. Peeling an eyelid back Sokka could see that it was still dark outside, the light taking on that dark grey/blue colour in early morning. Sokka wasn't sure who was going to be texting him this early on a Sunday - he was the breakfast host of a radio show over the week. Anyone who knew Sokka well enough knew that if you woke him up early on the days he wouldn't have to get up at 4 to get to the show, you were basically asking for death. 

Sokka, who was also infamous for not being able to sleep once you woke him up, flung his arm out to the side and checked his phone. The text was from an unknown number. It read:

'Hello. Zuko here. I'm just letting you know our schedule for rehearsals. Monday - Thursday 11- 6. Wednesday 12-6. Friday 8.30- whenever they want us in the studio. I believe you have the address already. If you have any questions feel free to text me back.  
Zuko.' 

Of course he was overly polite and robot like over text, just like he was in real life. Sokka shot back a 'Thanks man, see you on Monday 💙'. The emoji definitely wasn't needed but it was a Sokka staple, and sort of funny when you considered Sokka was sending it to someone with the same amount of humour as Sokka's primary school headteacher. Sokka chucked the phone back onto his bedside table, and shook his head. If his entire Strictly experience was going to be like these last two days maybe signing up had been a mistake.

He hadn’t wanted to do the show in the first place to be completely honest. He’d been approached by the network a few months prior, and his radio station had been extremely eager for him to participate. Something about ratings dropping for certain shows (not Sokka’s) and it would be good to raise hype and maybe get more DJs on the show in future. Sokka did not have anything against ballroom dancing - he watched the show every year, and spent lots of time alone dancing in his kitchen, or busting out some ‘cringy dad moves’ as Katara had called them on the dancefloor. He was just apprehensive to be dancing in front of millions of people, especially as the show had a reputation for attracting rampant tabloid headlines for both the stars and the pros. 

The fact that Katara had been approached and already said yes was yet another reason he was reluctant. He’d seen enough reality television in his days to know that the competitive sibling arc was going to be pushed between the two, and that was the last thing Sokka wanted. Not that he and his sister didn’t bicker, but he was aware of how competitive both of them could get, and he didn’t want a fun little competition turning into a full blown family ruining argument. 

It had been Gran Gran who had finally convinced Sokka to do the show. It had been his mother’s birthday, and Sokka’s family were having their annual memorial get together party. Katara and Hakoda had gone to fetch the takeaway, so Sokka had been left alone with his grandmother. She was flicking through an old photo album, a tear glistening in her foggy eyes like rain against a misty window. The photo she was looking at was taken by Hakoda, showing Kya smiling and clapping as Sokka leaned backwards dramatically, kept standing only by Katara, who was grinning proudly. The Strictly’s trademark purple lighting was reflected onto Katara’s ugly sequined skirt that she’d begged Kya to make. Sokka had smiled, peering over Gran Gran’s shoulder.

“She loved seeing you two dance.” Gran Gran had said quietly, running a crinkled finger lovingly over the glossy paper. "She loved dancing, your mother. When she was here she would never stop. It was quite annoying actually. She and your father would just dance around the kitchen whilst I was trying to cook: especially when she was pregnant with you. Trying to give you rhythm or something. Spirit knows that your father has none - which isn't surprising considering that he shares genes with me. But you and Katara… you've got your mother's skills."

Sokka turned and rubbed at his stinging eyes. "You really think so?"

"I do. Both you and your mother were both so warm and joyful - both of you made such a difference when your Gramp Gramp died. It would be such a shame to never see her dance again."

"Don't worry Gran Gran." Sokka said, trying to ignore the cracking in his voice. "You'll see us dance soon enough."

The network got a call from Sokka's agent the first thing the next morning.

\---

Sokka pulled up to the first day of training in his taxi, thanking the driver and stepping into the studio, pulling his hoodie over his head so if the paps were for some reason there they hopefully wouldn't see him. He was greeted not by Zuko but by a cameraman, a mike dude and a producer, all stood waiting. They followed Sokka up the stairs to the studio like three creepy shadows, saying nothing despite Sokka's best attempts at jokes as he led them to the studio. They stopped at the door, motioned for Sokka to pause, and ushered themselves into the rehearsal space before calling to Sokka to enter. Sokka painted on his most enthused smile and strode in, grinning.

Zuko looked slightly like a deer in the headlights, caught mid stretch as the crew and then Sokka barged in. He quickly swung his leg off the ballet bar that had been left in the rehearsal space and sped over to Sokka, clasping his back in yet another uncomfortable bro hug. "Good to see you man." He spoke gravelly, Sokka quickly returning the greeting and holding up his shiny dancing shoes that production had given him.

"All present and accounted for sir!" Sokka mock reported like a soldier, going to salute with the hand the shoes were clasped in and nearly knocking himself in the temple. Zuko almost smiled. "All dance shoed up and excited to learn!"

Zuko shook his head, the pained smile he grew looking almost like a snarl. "Trust me soldier - you've got no idea what you're in for. Firstly:" he slowly lowered Sokka's hand, "let's leave on the trainers for now." 

The production crew left soon after that, briefly filming Zuko taking Sokka through some basic moves. Zuko had explained that they were doing a cha cha cha that week. Apparently that was good because it matched Sokka's personality and it was a typical week 1 dance, so wasn't as difficult as say a samba, but it did mean they'd hit one of the harder dances, like Samba, when the standard in the competition was a lot higher, provided they get there. It also meant that pulling something off that was super memorable was more difficult, but Sokka wasn't worried. He'd only been on the show for a day and already become a meme. 

The army metaphor had not been too far from what Zuko's teaching style was actually like. He was relentless, making Sokka stop and redo a move until he'd got the technique for it down perfectly. Sokka had absolutely begged Zuko to listen to the song they were performing to but Zuko adamantly refused. "You've got to get the basics down first." He said, telling Sokka to bounce more on his feet. "Otherwise you'll build bad habits into the routine when we actually start learning it. More hips, Sokka!" 

Sokka grumbled but continued. 

\---

"Hey big brother!" Katara's voice chirped happily. "How's training going?" 

"It's going… well I think?" Sokka said, stirring the macaroni he'd made himself for dinner. Hawky, his pet parrot (don't ask about the name) glared on from the corner of the room watching as his owner tried to balance his mobile between his shoulder and his ear. "Zuko's been working me hard. We're 2 days in and we're only about ⅔ of the way through the dance. Tell me, should I be bleeding?" 

"I don't know - wait, let me ask. AANG, SHOULD SOKKA BE BLEEDING?!" She yelled, causing Sokka to jerk backwards and nearly send his phone plopping into his macaroni. Hawky looked away disapprovingly. There was a muffled shout from the other side of the line. "Probably not." Katara concluded.

"I'm not actually bleeding." Sokka laughed. "But I do have the most blisters I think I've ever seen on a human foot. What are you still doing training, by the way? It's like 8 at night." 

"Oh my god! I had no clue! I got carried away - Aang and I are having so much fun!"

At least someone was having a good time.

\---

Come Friday morning things weren't much better. The pair had stumbled through an interview on the Thursday night on the partner show and had gone into the studio on Friday frankly too early for Sokka's tastes. He'd got very little sleep (part nerves, part bad ramen he'd had for dinner) and was up to his limit. How much could Zuko really fault him for? He'd got the routine down, added character, and was now in the process of polishing it. Still the dark haired bad boy wasn't happy. He shook his head and pulled Sokka back into the position they'd been in about 15 seconds from the end of the dance. "You're stepping out too far here. They'll pick you up on it." 

"If they're like you they'll pick me up on everything!" Sokka snapped, ripping his wrist out of Zuko's hold. Zuko looked almost confused, his eyebrow furrowed.

"... Sorry? I'm just trying to make sure your technique is perfect."

"I know!" Sokka huffed, planting his butt on the floor. It was dramatic and immature and it kinda hurt his ass, but it felt good to do. "It just… it wouldn't be a bad thing if sometimes you told me what I was doing right? I don't want you to lie to me just to boost my ego or whatever, but I wouldn't mind some praise thrown in with criticism." Sokka's voice trailed off and he continued quietly. "There is something to praise, right?"

"Of course!" Zuko answered a little too quickly, his cheeks burning red. "Your hips move very well, you've captured the feel of the dance, you're very smily, the majority of your footwork is quite proficient and-" He nodded, wringing his hands. Sokka had never seen him quite so shaken (admittedly they'd only known each other for like a week) but Zuko was usually so collected and together, like a statue. From this interaction Sokka guessed he was more like a hollow statue, packef full of explosives trying to bust out. 

"Hey, it's okay!" Sokka intervened. 

"I'm sorry. My dance training wasn't particularly praise based. It hasn't always come second nature to me. I'll make an effort though." 

Sokka nodded, pushing the hairs that bad escaped his ponytail off his face and standing up, resuming his dancing position. He slid his right foot in a little bit. "Like this?"

Zuko nudged it again with his foot. "There you go. Well done." The phrase seemed sort of alien on his tongue, but it didn't sound sharp or malicious. The celebrity smiled. He made eye contact with Zuko, who nodded at him, acknowledging that Sokka had appreciated the well done. He stepped away.

"Okay, let's run this again!"


	3. Show one - Beggin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka fights through nerves for his first show, and has a run in with Jet.

It was Saturday evening, and Sokka had never been more frightened in his life. Usually on a Saturday night he was hitting the bar with his mates, or DJing for some event. Behind the scenes of Strictly had the same buzz, people rushing about and dabbing on makeup, the brightly coloured costumes like disco lights. He blinked, dumbfounded, one of the make up ladies dabbing powder onto his face, idly chatting. Sokka felt incredibly guilty but he had no idea what her name was (though to be honest he hadn't taken any information in over the last day: everything had been a magical blur).

Jet was perched in the chair next to him, picking at his fingernails as another make up artist brushed through his unusually spindly eyebrows. He had one leg crossed over the other, relaxing casually in his chair as if this was the easiest thing he'd ever done. "So… Sokka. How's working with Zuko? Hope you haven't been struggling too much." Jet's words were a tad sharp.

"It's been alright, I guess. You?"

"That's nice." Jet smirked. "Azula's been working me hard, of course. But that's to be expected with the best teacher. Not that I've been struggling." 

"Great." Sokka said. 'Enough with the mental warfare' he thought, the worry blossoming under what he hoped was a good facade of confidence. Hopefully Jet was in the same boat as Sokka, feeling all shuddery on the inside. Hopefully Jet was just overcompensating. 

"Sokka. Are you good to go?" There was a voice from the doorway and Sokka spotted Zuko, who seemed half irate and half shy. His hair had been slicked back and stuck neatly to his head. He'd been given a clip to stick in the top of his bun, a wine red bird the same colour as his silk shirt. Sokka silently thanked Zuko for rescuing him from Jet's smarminess, even if it meant Sokka's reckoning was growing closer and closer. He thanked and complemented the make up artist, cooly said goodbye to Jet, and fled the busy room. The hallway was cool and refreshing, a nice contrast from the make up room that was thick and hot with the bright mirror lights. "We've got 5 minutes until our five minute call."

"So we've got ten minutes?"

"No. When we get the call you've got to head up to the stage. You've got five minutes." 

"Oh." Sokka's mouth went dry. He hadn't expected this to happen quite so quickly.

"Look, if you wanted to do anything you should, uh, do it now. I think I saw your sister round the corner." Zuko was glancing away. It was oddly touching, Zuko keeping his mind on Sokka's sister. That being said, Zuko had his own scary sister and probably just wanted Sokka at his absolute calmest so he wouldn't be as humiliatingly useless as usual.

Sokka nodded. "Yeah, I should probably go and wish her good luck. I'll meet you up the back of the stage?" 

They agreed the meeting place and Sokka jogged off, rounding the corner to find Katara and Aang. They were laughing loudly and joyously, Katara with her head thrown back. She had her arm on Aang's bicep, steadying herself, and her partner was blushing. Sokka felt like groaning, seeing how happy his sister was in comparison to his sharp nerves. Instead of groaning, Sokka went for a bitchy cough. "Sokka!" The pair cheered, Katara pulling Sokka into a comforting hug. He felt the coil in his belly loosen a little. 

"Katara! How are you feeling?" 

"Oh, I'm pretty good. A bit nervous if I'm honest. How are you doing, Sokka? I've got to say you're pulling off that pink shirt incredibly well."

"Just as dad wanted." Sokka chuckled, squeezing Katara's hand. "I'm really nervous, to be completely honest. I'm going to make an absolute fool of myself."

"No you're not!" Katara gasped, grabbing Sokka's face. "You're going to be incredible. And what if you do make a fool of yourself? Everyone else here will be doing the exact same thing." 

"Thank you Katara." Sokka smiled, only half believing her words. They continued to chat idly for the next few minutes until the runner came in and ushered Katara and Aang away, leaving Sokka to trudge backstage, past all the flouncing dancers and towards Zuko.

\--- 

The opening of the show had gone as expected, really. Zuko had taken his hand and led him down the staircase, they'd smiled widely, stood for a bit, and ran off to the staircase waiting area with the rest of the pros. Fortunately Sokka had drawn a middling spot in the running order, and therefore didn't need to suffer through too many performances before he faced his fate. He paced around backstage, listening as the audience clapped and cheered for Suki and Haru, who were trying their luck at a quickstep. He attempted to block it out, stuffing his fingers in his ears, but the cheers and applause crashed through like a tidal wave. It disrupted all the neat, filed thoughts in his head, causing them to jolt around his skull like it was some kind of human pinball machine.

"Sokka. You need to calm down." Zuko's rasp cut through the thoughts pinging through Sokka's mind. He grabbed Sokka's face and got up close. "You're great, Sokka. You're going to blow them all away."

"I'm not." He sighed. "You're just saying that." 

"I'm not." Zuko's voice was firm and flat. He squeezed out a little smile. It looked slightly foreign on his face, but it wasn't bad. It was kind of sweet, actually. "You're better than you know Sokka, and that's mostly my fault. I wasn't nice enough to you in training, but you really are good. I promise. When we're out there and you panic just keep your eyes on me. Know that I know that you're good. Am I panicking?" 

"Maybe?"

"Sokka!"

Sokka laughed a little. "No." 

"Good, let's go." 

\---

The audience held their bated breath, and so did Sokka. He was paused in his starting position, the lycra shirt taught around his muscles as he breathed in heavily. Zuko spoke quietly from behind Sokka as the beginning beats of 'Beggin' began to play. "Remember Sokka. Eyes on me." 

Sokka nodded, took a deep breath in. The singer, a deep voiced man, opened his mouth and wailed out the first note. Sokka threw his arms up in the air and brought them down as the note continued, doing jazz hands and keeping his neck high. 'A good opening silhouette will set you up well in the judges mind' Zuko had said in training, poking at Sokka's back to get him to stand up straight. The beat properly kicked in and both men sprang into action, moving around the floor to the beat. Sokka had no real connection to the song save for hearing it on the radio sometimes but it was enjoyable enough. 

He came closer to Zuko and the two connected, Sokka gripping Zuko's hand and staring right in his face. They danced around, Sokka finding his feet were moving on his own. He knew he'd been through the dance enough to get him to know it, but the more he moved the more the tension seeped out of him as he found he knew the dance. He met Zuko's look. "Relax." He shouted over the music. "You're doing it!" 

"I am!" Sokka beamed, properly getting into the song and breaking out of hold to go and do some of the freestyle bits in the centre of the floor. They were some cheesey disco moves but Sokka had absolutely begged Zuko to let him do it because he thought it would be funny and would drive Katara nuts. She always joked on nights out that he danced like a dad. As he turned around he caught a glimpse of Gran Gran and Hakoda sitting in the front row of the audience and, against his better judgement, winked at her. 

Then he was dancing back to Zuko, his hips swaying to the beat, his mouth in a wide grin. Zuko took his hand and suddenly they were back in hold, spinning and grinning and dipping and doing a strange grinding movement with their hips. It had been kind of awkward in training but at this point Sokka was having too much fun to care. 

The final notes kicked in, three short sharp notes. On one he forced Zuko to his knees, on another he pushed him backwards onto the floor, and on the last one he flung his arms up in the air, pulling his sassiest face possible. 

The face dissolved quickly as Sokka was enveloped by applause, the audience on their feet and cheering. Sokka was breathing in and out so fast he was sure he was sure his lungs were going to burst but that didn't stop him from sticking his arm out to Zuko, yanking him up and pulling him into a tight hug, jumping around and spinning like a child. All that hard work and stress had thankfully paid off. Sokka felt like he was completely weightless. "We did it! We did it!" He shouted, letting go of Zuko and pumping his fists in the air.

"Yeah, we did." Zuko replied in a soft, quiet voice. He had a gentle, small smile.

Sokka bounded over to Iroh who was parked in front of the judges table, clapping happily. "Wow! How energetic!" He smiled, nodding quickly at Zuko. "How are you feeling?" 

"Like my lungs are on fire!" Sokka grinned, giving a thumbs up to the camera.

The studio gave a hearty laugh. "Brilliant." Iroh smiled. "Well, whilst you get your breath back let's get the low down from our judges. Piandao?"

"Wow Sokka. You definitely seemed quite shy at the beginning of that but I'm glad you got into it by the end. Your energy was incredible and once you let go you definitely not only had fun but your technique improved, even if I could spot a little hesitation. Keep up the good work." Sokka felt his smile grow. He'd always liked Piandao, he seemed like he'd be a good mentor or something.

They moved on down to Jeong Jeong, an older man with a strange white haircut that looked like a spiky bowl cut. "Piandao's right. Once you started having a good time you definitely improved. There were a few glaring issues in the technique which I’m sure my colleague here is going to point out-” He gestured to Paku. “-But overall a good first attempt.”

Paku spoke next. He was a judge who had a reputation for being especially cutting and mean right up until you earned his respect. For the first few years as a judge he’d come under a lot of flack for being nicer to the male contestants, but that problem had been solved by a few public apologies and an apparent resolve to be a bit of a dick to all genders.”For a lot of instances your legs were bent and straightened in the places at the wrong times. Your arms were flying around like they were made of spaghetti and even when you were having fun you still seemed sort of in your head. You were having fun but you hadn’t let go.”

Sokka’s smile faltered a bit. Suddenly Zuko’s warm hand was in his, squeezing, and a rush of calm fell through Sokka just in time to hear Paku say: “That being said it could have been worse. Well done.”

The smiles were back and Sokka squeezed Zuko’s hand in return. Finally, the ancient head judge, Bumi, gave his comments. “Woww.” He crooned. “You guys were brilliant, zipping and zinging around there and winking and moving those feet like a cockroach on hot coals. Pakku is right about the technique, but you did a great job Sokka and you definitely have great potential.” 

There was another cheer from the audience and Sokka was tugged up the stairs by Zuko, reaching Toph at the top. “Wow. Couldn’t see what was going on bit it certainly sounded like you were having a great time down there.”

“Oh I 100% was.” Sokka chuckled. “Tomorrow morning I’ll probably chill out and overthink literally everything that’s happened, but for now I’m having a great time! I'm not latin anything get me down.”

“Did you just make a latin/lettin’ pun?” Toph asked, looking mildly outraged. 

Zuko groaned. “He’s been doing this all week.”

Katara shouted loudly from behind the sofa. “He’s been doing this my whole life!”

The room burst out into laughter. Even Azula seemed to snigger. “Well before we get to hear another horrible pun, the scores are in!”

Sokka sucked in some air, slightly sobered up from the adrenaline high. 

A six from Pakku.  
A six from Jeong Jeong.  
A seven from Bumi.  
A seven from Piandao.

Sokka released his breath. 26. It was quite mediocre in the grand scheme of things, but half way through the show Sokka was in the top third of the leaderboard, and no one was being sent home that week anyway. Sokka nodded along happily when the scores were announced, relieved that he’d not got a one. He barely had time to digest his score however, as they had gone to the next person and Katara was throwing her arms around Sokka, tackling him like she did when they were kids. “Well done! You were awesome.”

“I was, wasn’t I?” He could hear Zuko tut in the background and lifted his head up. “Thanks for not letting me embarrass myself.”

“No problem.”

\---

Azula and Jet whirled around the floor, perfectly pointed toes and smarmy smiles, a flash of electric determination behind their eyes. Every move was positioned right, and every look was sharp and right. They’d done a jive, the last dance of the night, and Sokka found himself speechless. He’d thought he was alright. He’d thought Katara and Aang were good. If they were good then Jet was incredible, dipping and diving in all the right places. When they finished Sokka found his mouth hanging open, suddenly missing Zuko’s steady hand on his back. His partner had spent most of the night stood about a foot away from him and Sokka didn’t want to say he felt alienated, but something in him was longing for that warmth again. It was probably just his nerves coming back.

He especially missed Zuko when the scores were called. Zuko’s face was cool but his hands gripped the balcony tighter and tighter for every word said, the pale skin now bone white. Seven, eight, eight, nine. 32.

Sokka felt a bit guilty and a lot nervous. Kind of scared. Because Azula and Jet weren’t just good, they were brilliant.

Sokka swore. “Ugh, I’d really hoped he was overcompensating.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song is Beggin' my Madcon. I'm not going to lie This song was only picked because I went through a strictly archive to find Cha Cha songs because I had no idea what to make the song. Or how to write it. Yes I had to read a phan au to get to it and yes I was transported back to 2015 as I did so.


	4. Lifting spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sokka has hit a bit of a wall. Zuko is determined to change this.

"So, Sokka. Week three. I think we need to have a talk."

Sokka picked at the sleeve of his shirt, trying to avoid looking into Jeong Jeong's eyes. Zuko's hand squeezed the back of his elbow, feeling as Sokka stiffened up. Suddenly he was back in school being scolded for not doing the correct work and instead creating a new type of radio.

"As both Pakku, Bumi and Piandao have said it's a bit like you've hit a wall. You've got similar scores every week, you've got similar critiques too. Yes, your technique is good for the most part but you're too in your head. You need to really let go if you're to get further in this competition." A loud boo came from the audience. "What?!" Jeong Jeong grumbled. "It's true!"

Sokka sighed. It was.

It wasn't that Sokka wasn't trying hard. He really was. He and Zuko had been working hard every week in training, yet still hadn't advanced much from the first week. They'd gone from the bottom of the top third of the leader board to the middle of the middle third, to the top of the bottom third. As it went they weren't doing too badly, but Sokka wasn't advancing well in comparison to everyone else. Even Roku, who had been in the first bottom two of the series, had just surpassed Sokka in score. It was humiliating, really. 

He knew what it was. Sokka was aware that he was a very charismatic and smiling figure on the radio and around people he knew in real life, but on the dancefloor he struggled to fully remove himself from himself when dancing. The risk of humiliation and failure was present the second Sokka stepped out onto the dancefloor, holding him back like there was a layer of plaster covering his skin just restricting his movements so that every stretch was stopped just short and the cracks were shown in every smile, even in those moments when he let himself forget what he was doing and enjoy the music. When Zuko got on stage the grumpy, harsh front evaporated, leaving him freed and smiling. When Sokka got on stage the walls came up. 

Zuko had realised this. 

Sokka had barely caught his breath from climbing what felt like ten flights of stairs to get to their rehearsal space when Zuko began his briefing. "So, as you know… last week didn't go as well as we'd hoped."

"Good to see you too man. How was your weekend?" The look Zuko shot Sokka was as sharp as a knife. 

"Sokka. I'm trying to help." 

Sokka shrugged and went back to tying his shoes. "My bad."

Zuko's nose twitched and his jaw clenched. He exhaled loudly but continued in a bland, monotone voice. "Last week didn't go as well as we'd hoped. I think that's partly because you haven't let yourself go. I find dancing an opportunity to let go and open myself up and show the true me. But, that can be scary and intimidating." Zuko's voice wobbled a bit and got higher, bleeding tiny dribbles of emotion. "You're a cool dude, Sokka. If the funny, charismatic man I see in training can come out on the dancefloor you're going to be incredible. We just need to shift some of the focus off you."

"So?" Sokka sighed. "I don't want to sound like a nihilist but I don't know how we can shift the focus off me without me, you know, not being there." 

"We're going to make you play a character. It's movie week, after all." Zuko smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. It was a good look on him. "So this week, we're dressing you up as a tap dancing snowman."

Sokka stopped tying his shoes. "You've got to be kidding me."

\---

"A five six seven eight! Ba bum!" Two loud claps rang out in the studio as Sokka did a little spring, pointing his foot onto the floor with a loud metal tap on the second. He held his hands out in a jazzy little flourish, which Zuko half heartedly batted away. “You can do your jazz hands at the end, Sokka. But good work, you’re hitting the beat perfectly.”

“Thanks.” Sokka smiled, lightly blushing. “So what next? Bowler hats and canes?”  
“Not quite. We’re actually going to stop with the steps for a moment and start practicing some of the lifts.”

Sokka’s mouth dropped open. Lifts were new territory. Zuko had explained to him at the beginning of the week that they were doing the American Smooth to In Summer from Frozen, a dance which consisted of old school glamour and theatrics, up to 60% of the dance not in hold, and most importantly for this moment, lifts. Theoretically, Sokka knew they were coming, but it was still a bit of a shock. He pushed his jaw shut and shook out his head. “Cool? So are you going to be throwing me about like a pretty princess?”

“No. You’re lifting me.”

“Oh, nice.” Sokka shrugged, flexing a bicep. “You’re in safe hands. I’m the strongest man in my family. Maybe the entire world.” 

Zuko snorted and rolled his eyes (a frequent action when dealing with Sokka’s shenanigans). “Sure thing, buddy.” He nodded at Sokka to come and stand a little closer to him, eyes lingering slightly on the arm that Sokka had flexed. Sokka didn’t blame him. His muscles were pretty cool. “Right, so this lift consists of you lifting me up for a second so that most of my body is over your head. Not horizontally, but vertically so our bodies will be parallel with each other. You’ll have one hand under my armpit, like this,” Zuko grabbed Sokka’s arm and put it in the appropriate position, “and the other one will clutch my hand.” Zuko took Sokka’s hand and interlocked their fingers so that Sokka’s palm lay flat against Zuko’s. 

Sokka nodded along, following as Zuko led them to a large blue crash mat the size of a mattress but covered with what looked like a tough blue plastic. Zuko’s slender fingers didn’t move from Sokka’s as he positioned them so the back of Sokka's legs brushed the back of the crash mat. “Right, so this is relatively simple. I can see you getting it on the second or third try. What’s going to happen is I’m going to do a little jump, and then a big one, and on the second one you’re going to lift me. You want to move the arm under my armpit straight up, and whilst you should have a little bit of give in it so you don’t fuck up your elbow try and keep it as tall as possible. Your other hand, the one in mine, you want to lift enough to keep my arm straight because I’m going to put all my weight in it, whereas you want to put as much of your push as possible into your other arm, the straight one.”

“I’m not good at doing anything straight.” Sokka blurted, hoping that it sounded more like a purposeful quip than it actually was.

Zuko blushed, moving his eyes away from Sokka for a quick second, pulling some inscrutable gaze that Sokka could’t decode. Then his usual persona was back. “Right, uh, when I jump you’re going to push up, I’ll push down, and I’ll rise up in the air for a few seconds, I think.”

“You think?”

“I’ve never actually done this with a guy before.” Zuko admitted. “I’m usually the one lifting. My dad’s going to have a fit…” Before Sokka could ask what that meant Zuko was speaking again, giving him that intense stare that was sort of becoming comforting. “You good to give it a go?”

Sokka nodded, parting his legs so he’d be able to shift the weight as he lifted Zuko. “Right, three, two, one-” 

Zuko did a little bounce on the balls of his feet before springing up into the air so quickly that Sokka completely missed it and was only lifting his hands once Zuko’s feet were firmly back on the floor. Zuko titled his head, a mildly irate expression on his lips as Sokka spluttered out a laugh. “Personally I think being too slow increases the lift’s effectiveness by like, 300%” 

The professional dancer’s lips twitched as if contemplating a smile. “Let’s go again.”

The second attempt worked a little better than the previous one. Sokka was actually on time and managed to give Zuko a bit of lift, the spry dancer propelled for just a millisecond above his head before hitting the floor a little hard. The lift was about halfway there, and Sokka was adamant that he was going to get it right, furrowing his brows and snapping into that focused mode that had served him so well in school. There were a few more misfires and a bit of tweaking from Zuko before everything finally clicked. At least for a second.

Zuko did his little bounce before leaping into the air, Sokka thrusting his arms up so that Zuko was paused above Sokka’s head. Sokka craned his neck up and saw Zuko’s head outstretched and tall like a prideful statue, his strong jaw on show. “I’m doing it!” Sokka began to shout excitedly, expelling a sigh of relief and softening his arm and relaxing his hold a little too quickly. Instead of Zuko heading back down vertically like a special jump, Sokka's arms tipped him forward, hurling all of his weight frontwards into Sokka’s shoulders. In a rare show of shock Zuko actually yelped, suddenly tumbling face first towards the crash mat, Sokka’s legs giving out at the sudden change in balance, causing him to topple backwards. His back hit the crashmat with a thump, the air puffing out away from him. Then Zuko was suddenly colliding with him, leaving the pair in a sprawled, tangled mess.

Zuko pushed himself up on his arms, his face mere inches from Sokka’s. Their eyes met and Sokka inhaled. Zuko’s hair had begun to come loose from his hair tie, baby hairs floating down in front of his pale skin and framing his angular face. His eyes, even the burnt one, were a brilliant honeyed gold, like an orb of precious, expensive sunshine. Zuko’s eyes were fluttering all over his partner’s face and Sokka could feel Zuko’s chest rising and falling against his as he froze, tensed. From Sokka’s position it would be easy to lean up and kiss Zuko, snog that dumb unreadable expression off his face and-

Woah. So that was odd.

Sokka’s pupils expanded in panic and suddenly Zuko scrambled away, sitting cross legged on the crash mat and hurriedly (and unsuccessfully) pressing the strands of flyaway hair back into his ponytail. His face was a bright red, looking almost as hot as Sokka’s cheeks felt. Kissing Zuko. What was Sokka thinking? It was probably just the situation. He’d watched too many cheesy romcoms where they fell over and then kissed. It’s not like Sokka liked Zuko any more than on an aesthetic level, anyway. That would be weird. 

Noticing Zuko’s apparent discomfort, Sokka sat up and tried to crack a joke. “Wow, that really LIFTed my spirits about the dance.”

Zuko didn’t even crack. He just rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Sure. Let’s go for lunch.”

Sokka shrugged and went over to his bag and pulled out the noodles he’d cooked himself the night before, sliding his back down the wall and sitting with his legs turned out like a little child. He pulled out his phone and shot a quick text to Katara. ‘Just attempted my first lift. 2/10, would not recommend dropping a partner on yourself’.

In true Katara style she shot back a ‘😂🤣’ in record time, before ‘you should’ve seen some of the misfires Aang and I got into lol. Good luck’. 

‘👀👀’ was Sokka’s short reply and he switched his phone off, turning to Zuko. Zuko seemed relatively composed again, chomping into his sandwich with the same grim expression as someone who had been put in charge of commanding an entire ship of unruly sailors, not a young adult dance teacher. Sokka tilted his head to the side. “What did you mean, your dad was going to have a fit?”

The way Zuko choked on his sandwich and set his jaw told Sokka that he shouldn’t have asked, but at this point it was too late. “My dad isn’t too big on the whole dudes dancing together thing, let alone seeing his son get whirled around like a lady. Which is hypocritical because he ultimately greenlit this whole blind pairing thing, but I think that was just pressure from the viewership.”

“Oh, sounds like a dick.” Sokka sighed, before double taking. “Wait, greenlit?”

“Yeah. He owns the network. You must know.”

“Your dad is Ozai? The owner of Firenation?”

Zuko scowled. “The one and only.”

“Huh.” Sokka murmured. Firenation was the largest media network in the nation, and owned several television channels, the radio stations, a news service and had a film company. “Well in that case I think that you’re a wonderful dance teacher and my radio network, specifically the dashing presenter that does the weekday breakfast show, deserves a raise.”

That little crack in Zuko’s indifference appeared again, this time with a side glance and humoured exhale. Sokka felt a little warmth spark in the centre of his chest. “I’m sorry he thinks that, man. I don’t know what I’d do if my dad wasn’t super accepting of me.”

“Don’t worry. I got used to it pretty quickly. And it’s not like Ozai was father of the year, anyway.” Zuko’s tone was soft and maybe mournful. Sokka couldn’t help but be drawn to the large flesh red scar that surrounded Zuko’s eye.


	5. Show Four - In Summer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a frustrating few weeks Sokka has a stressful experience at the movie week live show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song featured in this is In Summer, from Frozen. Apologies for the length of time between updates, I can't say the next gap will be any shorter but I promise it will be done at some point aha.  
> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoy!

The live show, as usual, came as a total blindside. That day Sokka and Zuko had done dress rehearsal, eaten lunch with Aang and Katara, practiced in one of the back rooms whenever they weren't needed, got interviewed for the strictly stars dancing podcast and had the typical live show briefing. Even then, Sokka still felt out of his depth and nervous. Yes, they'd practiced for hours and hours but the week went quick and the critiques he'd got on the last show still hung over him like an angry, grey, Jeong Jeong shaped cloud.

This week the makeup room was luckily Jet free, so Sokka's buddy for the short bit of getting ready was Aang. Somehow Aang had persuaded the producers to let him and Katara do an X Men themed dance for movie week and one of the hairdressers was in the midst of shaving off small Tufts of Aang's hair that had escaped the electric clippers with a hand razor so he looked like Professor X. For a young twenty something Sokka thought he was taking way too much glee in losing his hair. "You didn't just choreograph this dance so they could chop your hair off, did you?" 

"I've been wanting to shave my head for years but the producers won't let me because apparently my hair is 'too marketable'." Aang shrugged. "I just like letting my head breathe, you know? And I can get so many more things done in the morning if I don't have to worry about styling my hair." 

Sokka flashed back to the previous Tuesday when he'd nearly been late to the studio because he was getting his wolf tail ‘just right’. Maybe Aang had a point.

"So what's my sister dressed as? Let me guess, Storm." Despite Katara sharing many personality traits with the X Man Sokka felt slightly disheartened at what was almost inevitable. As a dark skinned person Katara often got lumped as the token black character (however cool they were) even if the cultures they came from were completely different.

"Yeah." Aang sighed. "We tried to change it - took it right up to the bosses but got shut down."

Sokka thought back to Zuko's admission about his dad in training. "I'm starting to think these bosses aren't such accepting people."

Someone snorted from the doorway. It was Mai having creeped in silently to start having her nails painted. They were pointed and knife sharp, as was her wit. She'd been roped into playing some horror movie character and she looked the part. She noticed Sokka's confusion and rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, outside of your radio show you haven't had much experience with the bosses. The big ones." 

"Not really." Sokka admitted. He certainly wasn't the smallest celebrity on the show but compared to Mai, who had been making acclaimed documentaries about exciting and often dangerous walks of life for years, he was a relatively small fish in the large ocean that was Firenation. 

Mai smirked. "Well you're on one of the biggest shows, period. You've got lots of fun to look forward to." 

Sokka turned to face Aang, who was picking at his fingernails. He caught Sokka's curious gaze and laughed uncomfortably. "The bosses can be harsh, but that's not why we're here. We're here for dancing!"

Sokka nodded along. Aang was right, everyone had signed up for a reason: to dance, but this little chat hadn't done much to quell his nerves. He looked into the mirror and tried to focus on the obnoxious orange prosthetic carrot being glued onto his nose. 

\---

That day it was one of the production assistants who came to fetch Sokka, not Zuko. Which was fine. Sokka was a big boy who didn't need Zuko to hold his hand but the break from traditional sharpened the uneasy edge he'd had all day. Sokka followed her around, utterly oblivious. "So, uh, where are we going? Where's Zuko?" 

"We're on our way to fetch him. There's been a bit of a change of plan."

Sokka, who had referred to himself as the plan guy on multiple occasions (much to Katara's disappointment) and was using the plan as the only thing keeping him together, debated crying at this. Then he remembered the make up guy's threat that if he smudged even a speck of it he'd be regretting for weeks and tried to stop his panic spilling over. "What change of plan?"

The assistant looked almost as shaken as Sokka. "I'll explain when we fetch your partner - it's quicker to only say it once."

She had a point. 

They reached the pro dressing room in record time. The dancers were applying the last licks of make up and stretching, some going over the moves they had for the big pro dance to kick off movie week. Ty Lee spotted Sokka and the assistant and elbowed someone hidden behind a corner. 

Zuko emerged. Sokka nearly had a heart attack.

Zuko was shirtless, striding from the dressing room like a model. It was expected of a professional dancer to be toned and muscled but it still knocked Sokka for six. Zuko was striding, it felt like slow motion, and with his cold prince of darkness face and shaggy hair cascading free Sokka was suddenly in on the whole ‘mysterious bad boy’ image. As much as it had annoyed Sokka at first and also contrasted with the dorky and sometimes awkward guy he got to know in training Sokka was slowly succumbing to the appeal. He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. This was not the time to be having a bi panic.

“Jeez, dude. I thought the opening dance was supposed to be Mary Poppins, not Magic Mike.” Sokka said at lightning speed before clamping his mouth shut. 

A hint of redness passed over Zuko’s cheeks. It could have been an honest to god blush at Sokka’s half flirting, but it was more likely embarrassment at the comment. It had come out a little sharper than it was meant to. Then Zuko was rolling his eyes and looked back into the dressing room. “Azula thought it would be funny to hide my shirt. I’ve found it now.”

The assistant doubled over, exhaling in relief. “Oh thank the Lord. I could not deal with another costume malfunction tonight.”

“... Another?”

“Right.” She said, turning to the men with serious urgency. “There’s been an issue with Roku’s costume. It got ripped, whatever. We can salvage it for the opening but we’re going to need some more time for repairs so he can dance in it. Your places in the running have been swapped.”

“Oh that’s chill.” Sokka said, before freezing. “Wait. Roku… Roku was going first!”

The small respite of worry Sokka's 'appreciation' of Zuko had caused was now gone, flattened by the announcement. He turned to Zuko, who looked at least a little perturbed. "We were supposed to be 7th. Can't we just move everybody forward a spot? Moving us to so early in the running with such little warning is grossly unfair to Sokka." 

"I'm sorry but the second place spot has refused to move to first. And any further reshuffling would be too complicated with the costuming."

"Azula was second." Zuko argued. "She doesn't even have to get changed that much after the group number! This is bogus favouritism."

"Sorry." The assistant said. "I'm just the messenger. My hands are tied." 

Despite being damned near shitting himself in worry Sokka tried to relate to the lady, who looked like she was about to get berated by his partner. In his early days working in radio he'd been in her position and shouted at for problems he didn't have a say in. "Thanks for letting us know." 

The assistant smiled kindly. Sokka mirrored that smile and then turned to Zuko with absolute horror in his eyes. "I'm going to die. I like to think I'm a pretty positive chap but I kid you not I'm going to fall over and die right now."

Zuko placed a hand on Sokka's shoulder. "I know this isn't ideal. It's unfair, actually. But there's nothing we can do. Just do what everybody says, I'll come and find you as soon as I can. We've got this." 

"Come on Zuzu! It's showtime and you're not dressed." A cutting female voice called. It was Azula. Zuko winced and took his hand off Sokka's shoulder, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah." Sokka said, words dripping in sarcasm. "We've got this!"

\---

"I so have not got this." Sokka paced backwards and forwards, adjusting the sleeves of his shirt. Katara tutted, rolling her eyes and watching Sokka stress. 

She was standing at the top of the steps, waiting to descend and introduce herself. Both Aang and Zuko were from the group number costumes into their costumes for the show that night, leaving the two siblings waiting with some of the other contestants before they emerged and began the competitive section of the show. 

The title music began to blair from down the stairs. Sokka let out an uncomfortable groan. Katara rolled her eyes but still moved to gently pat him on the back. "Look Sokka, you're going to be fine. Forget what Jeong Jeong or Pakku says - dance for you and Zuko. Pretend you're in a room with just our family, or you're actually in the movie. You're going to be great."

Sokka nodded and tackled her into a hug.

"Sokka! Stop! You're going to get my makeup on your jacket!"

They pulled away and Aang emerged from round the corner, beaming as always. He bounded over to the siblings and went "Good luck, Sokka! Tell Zuko I say so too!" 

"Will do. You too guys!" Sokka called back. By that point one of the assistants had seen the pairing and was yanking them into their spot in the line. Sokka loitered at the back trying to pick Zuko out from the darkness. He reached the top of the stairs and there was still no Zuko.

For a quick second he ran through the options for if Zuko just didn't turn up. He could do the stair walk by himself, and he could probably do the routine alone - except for the lifts, but surely he could just throw his arms in the air, do some jazz hands? He'd probably get enough pity votes to save him from elimination but it wasn't ideal, and if Zuko didn't turn up Sokka was going to kill-

"Hey, sorry I'm late." Came a quiet, raspy voice. Zuko slotted in besides Sokka and grabbed his hand.

"Sister steal your shirt again?" 

"Ha ha."

Silence.

"Aang said good luck."

"Oh, thanks." 

"..."

"You nervous?"

"Spirits, yes."

Suddenly Sokka's name was being called and so was Zuko's and then they were stepping out into the colourful rainbow lights. They descended the steps, Sokka waving at the cheering, thunderous, crowd. They finally reached their spot on the main stage once the music finished. Iroh and Toph were giving their usual spiel and Sokka took the opportunity to get a look at Zuko now he wasn't concealed by the shadows. Prior arrangements had meant that Zuko and Sokka had to attend different costume fittings.

He looked ridiculous.

To try and make Zuko look like Sven from Frozen they'd stuck a headband on him with two velvet antlers stuck to the top, the band covered mostly with his hair, which had, for once, been let down. Brown paint had been smeared on quickly across his forehead and slicked down the bridge of his nose. On the top of his nose was a prosthetic reindeer nose, attached by a brown piece of elastic. He wore a brown waistcoat and a black shirt underneath, paired with brown pinstripe trousers. But the most laughable thing about his outfit was the two fluffy brown sleeves that puffed out, made of a plastic faux fur.

Sokka didn't look much less stupid. He was wearing a yellow hat and his face had been painted white, speckled with blue glitter to look like frost and a fake carrot had been stuck to his throat. He'd managed to escape the fluffy sleeves on the basis of being a snowman, but the sleeves on his shirt were black like twigs and he had a while waistcoat which possessed large black buttons, like the snowman's. 

It was how utterly out of place Zuko looked in the outfit that screwed him over. He'd seen Zuko act awkward before but now he was completely out of his depth, staring down at the sleeves and twitching his nose like a rabbit, the bits of face Sokka could see under the make up were flushed and red. 

Sokka took one look at him and doubled over laughing.

Zuko looked down at Sokka and hissed. "Why are you laughing?" Seeing him trying to be deadly serious with a fake nose and horns strapped to him just set Sokka off more. All of the nervous energy had transferred into an uncontrollable bout of giggles. 

He looked up and wheezed. "We look- haha- we look- ahahahahaha-" Sokka dissolved again as Zuko's brow furrowed and he tried to decipher Sokka's words. Sokka pointed at Zuko, then gestured to his outfit. Zuko's precise eyes followed him and a small smile broke out of Zuko's bad boy prison. Then he chuckled. Then he went bright red. He made an uncomfortable choking sound and burst into laughter too, eyes crinkled. He threw his head back and clutched Sokka's arm, the two supporting barley keeping each other up.

Sokka could see Azula and Jet scowling at him and in the back of his mind he could Iroh awkwardly introducing him as the first celebrity up but he couldn't help himself. He was laughing so hard he was shaking, his eyes on the edge of secreting tears and ruining his very lovely make up. 

One of the production assistants was firmly telling both him and Zuko to 'shut their traps and pull themselves together' and Sokka tried as hard as he could, gulping in air, but the second he did he looked up at Zuko's face, pure as unfiltered sunshine, and was infected again. Sokka had seen Zuko crack before, but this was different. It was memorable. Sokka could even go as far as to say it was beautiful.

He and Zuko were finally snapped out of their stupor by Toph of all people coming over and punching them on the arm. Sokka recoiled but couldn’t stop a few suppressed giggles from slipping through. “Come on meatheads, you’ve got to dance.” 

“Right, sorry Toph.” Zuko smiled. The audio of the VT they’d made over the week could be heard over the speakers and the lights had dimmed.

“Eh, it’s good you’ve stopped looking like you’re going to shit yourself, snoozles.” She jerked her thumb in Sokka’s general direction. “Good luck out there.” 

Zuko and Sokka thanked her and moved up to the top of the stage to where they were due to start as the VT was winding to a close. Sokka stood stiffly in his snowman pose but for the first time in the week so far the smile he wore was not nervous and fake, but real. His unscheduled laughing fit had purged most of the anxiety for the front of his head and although there was still a jitter in him Sokka couldn't figure out if it was nerves or excitement. Zuko nodded at him from his position, the lights went up, the announcer spoke, and the music started. 

The routine started with some role play, Zuko trying to snatch Sokka's nose and eat it as the band did a little of the speech from the film. Then they were dancing, Sokka trying his hardest to embody the goofy snowman with wide, silly facial expressions that were only emphasized by the absolute ridiculousness of the situation. It's not everyday you dance in front of millions of people dressed as a cartoon snowman. Sokka was gliding his way across the floor, joining with Zuko and twirling down stage in hold. 

They swept down on the very edge of the stage and Zuko span out of Sokka's hold, the pair doing a small move out of hold before Zuko span round to Sokka, planted his hands in his, did a little jump, and Sokka thrust him in the air. It was the move they’d fallen over doing in rehearsal but it moved smoothly here, Zuko rising through the air as Sokka turned, and just like that they were back in hold. The audience cheered loudly at the trick and Sokka grinned, the pair moving back to the middle of the stage to perform the bridge.

There was a small call and response section as Olaf scatted, Sokka starting with some easy tap dance and ballroom moves Zuko had taught him at the same time as the sharp jumps in the music before gliding back into hold when the music moved back into a sweet, gentle gloss. Then the punchier tune started again and Sokka did his moves in place, whilst Zuko moved downstage subtly on his.  
“Winter’s a good time to stay in and cuddle, but put me in summer and I’ll be a-” Sokka ran forwards, sucked in a deep breath, and jumped up as high as he could. Zuko deftly caught him like a bride and twirled him round as Sokka shouted “A HAPPY SNOWMAN!”, totally caught up in the moment.

(He had debated shouting ‘a puddle’ but Zuko said his little sister Kiyi would never forgive either of them if he did.)

The audience cheered again as Sokka was put down and the music changed, slowing down to ramp up for the big finish. Sokka relaxed against a fake palm tree the props team had wheeled in and then danced around it (yes, he’d made arguably too many pole dancing jokes in training) as he ‘mused’ about what he would do in summer. Then the tempo picked up pace and Sokka skipped across the floor for the first “In summer!”, meeting Zuko in the middle and instantly breaking into a hurried spin. Sokka made sure to lead with the parts of his feet Zuko had drilled him to on fear of dance god death.

They paused in a soft, well postured position as the music lulled for a second, the Sokka kneeled slightly, Zuko stepped on his raised leg and sat on his shoulder, arms in a V as the music swelled and Sokka span, white confetti dropping from the ceiling like snow. Both of their faces were in a bold grin as they stopped on the last note of the music, looking directly into the camera and holding their position, both panting. 

Then Sokka frantically out Zuko down and tackled him into a tight, ecstatic hug. “We did it! We did it! I didn’t drop you! We did it!”

Zuko, who only looked half uncomfortably stiff, chuckled. “We did. Well done.”

“Woo!” Sokka cheered, the enthusiasm of his tone met by the audience who were also applauding and cheering. He could even see some of them standing up, including Hakoda and Kanna, and one of the judges at the panel. It was Bumi, who was giggling like a madman. Jeong Jeong and Paindao were smiling and applauding politely, and even Pakku didn’t look like he was about to eviscerate Sokka on sight.

Iroh clasped Sokka on the back. “Wow! That routine was chilling, but in a good way!” He joked. “How was that for you, Sokka?”

“Ah, it was a lot of fun. And I didn’t drop my partner, so, you know.”

Iroh chuckled and nodded at Zuko. “Well that’s great. Now, let’s check in with our judges. Bumi?”

Bumi had sat down by this point but still seemed to be brimming with excitement. “What a way to open the show! You two moved with the grace of a river but with all the whimsy of a bumble bee in the spring. A massive improvement on last week, congratulations!”

Piandao was up next. “Well that routine was delightfully fun, it fit you right down to a T, Sokka. It was joyus, fun, but also technically very good, well done to your partner for choreographing it. There are still a few issues, but I’m proud of you. Really.”

Sokka flushed and focused on Pakku, who was up to speak next. “My colleague is correct. It’s a lovely routine and you sold it very well. Try harder on your lifts, especially dismantling them. You were a bit cack handed in places."

Sokka nodded. Then Jeong Jeong was up. "Pakku is right about your lift issues, unfortunately, but the rest of the dance was a massive improvement from last week. You seemed much more comfortable in your own skin, whether that was the laughing fit or playing a character, keep up with that. If you keep dancing to and above this standard, you could be a real threat in this competition. Well done." 

The audience cheered once more and so did Sokka, thanking the judges and jogging up the stairs towards Toph. They blasted through the short interview section and then the scores were in. A seven, two eights, and the crowning jewel: a nine. So yeah, couples had been getting nines since the beginning of the competition like Jet and Azula, and Aang and Katara had even garnered one the week before, but it still meant a lot. The thirty two felt earned. 

Sokka and Zuko finished the night fourth on the leaderboard. Sokka spent all of his time attached to Zuko at the hip, loose lipped and laughing. It was nice.


End file.
